


whatever souls are made of

by redqueenofprima



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dalton Big Bang, F/M, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2249259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redqueenofprima/pseuds/redqueenofprima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where soulmate bonds are considered the norm and non-soulmate bonds are not recognized, several individuals find themselves questioning the system as they struggle to lead lives that don’t quite meet society’s standards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> It's been such a long time since I last wrote something so apologies for the rustiness of my writing. This is written as part of the [Dalton Big Bang](http://daltonbigbang.tumblr.com/) and this is quite possibly the largest fic I have ever planned.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta CP Coulter who will have to deal with my future hysterics and terrible grammar. I will try not to butcher your characters too much. And also to my lovely artist Juliet (luckylouise) who has to deal with my crazy 'verse.
> 
> As usual, all characters are not mine but the lovely CP Coulter's.

It’s the year 2034 and soulmate bond marriages are the only legal unions recognized by the state.

The first recorded soulmate case was of a sixteen year old boy in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, who was suddenly marked with another boy’s name near his wrist. The next one was in London, of a sixty year old widow with the name of her husband showing up on her arm, five years after his death – each day growing gray until it was just a faded mark on her arm. Several cases in different countries followed thereafter, from Europe to Asia to Australia – the marks were showing everywhere.

It took a while for the scientists to figure out the meaning of the marks. When a scientist in the Netherlands suggested that it was possible the marks came in pairs, the whole world was in an uproar. There was hysteria, with millions of people rushing to find their other half. Many took advantage of the desperation and detective agencies purely dedicated to soulmate searching rose from the ground. Thousands of searches led nowhere, with the detectives dragging the investigation to leech money off of their rich clients. Others ended in devastation, with them discovering that their soulmate was already dead – either from old age or from accidents. Several young people were disappointed to find that their soulmate wasn’t the up-and -coming celeb from that one TV show or that one movie or that one band. Many searched, many failed but the ones that did succeed found happiness beyond belief. This supported the theory that the mark on your arm was the person that was in sync with you and your body; they were, in all sense of the word, _made_ for you. There was a supposed unspoken connection between soulmate pairs that not even scientists can explain.

It was a phenomenon, but what made this even more intriguing was that it was only a year after gay marriage was legalized in all states of America that they started showing up. Those who support gay rights thought it was a blessing from whatever higher power was there somewhere - a blessing for the fact that they were finally gearing towards the right path of history.

But the more soulmates bonds appeared, the more the conservatives found an opportunity – an opportunity to once again control the so-called sanctity of marriage. When another conservative was elected into office, his administration proposed a new bill – the Bill of Conservation of Soulmate Unions.

The bill proposed a decree that only soulmate bond unions are considered legal by the state. All other unions were henceforth considered null and void. Less than a year later, the bill was approved and signed by the president. The ink wasn’t even dry on the paperwork before it was already enforced. Thousands upon thousands of marriages, now dissolved.

Divorce rates plummeted. The law already did the divorcing for them, even from those who didn’t want it. Rallies rose up from different states, opposing the new law because of it. Cries that the law was unconstitutional and fought against everything they achieved when the marriage bans were lifted from all States could be heard from all across the country. Other countries followed suit with their own version of the law – each proposing stricter rules and prohibitions - and for a brief moment, revolutions were on the rise even more so in the countries that haven’t even lifted the marriage bans.

Suicide rates skyrocketed and devastation came from all fronts. It came from the elders, who were together for decades but in the end, not even allowed to see each other or make medical decisions when the other fell ill. It came from the people who waited for the marriage ban to be lifted, only to find out it was only a brief reprieve and that their opportunity to marry would be stripped away again because of a name on their arm. It came from the boyfriends and girlfriends left behind by their significant others in the search for their soulmate. Soulmate marks didn’t work out for everybody.

The world was in a dark state for a short while after the laws were declared. Finding your soulmate in the world wasn’t as easy as a chance meeting on the street or suddenly bumping into them on the train. Some people had soulmates from across the country. Some were across the globe. But over time, as more people found their soulmates and saw the so-called light of the bonds, they started to be considered as the norm. The rallies started to lessen in number as support slowly waned. More and more people just simply found their soulmates, and the stigma that the people who oppose the bill were simply bitter people that don’t have soulmates was just too great. It greatly decreased the credibility of the ones who oppose the law and they were slowly pushed to the background to news of the grand wedding of Hollywood’s two finest celebrities. The government and the media forced the proverbial rose-tinted glasses on the people again.

The world was in a state of calm again. The government had their shortcomings covered up and on the surface, people would be happy. The whole world will think that the system is perfect, that the world is perfect. Soulmate bonds are good for everyone involved and the people against it will see the light someday will be the lie that they will feed to the world. Those who refuse to conform to their set of standards will be isolated and discriminated. The struggle to be allowed to love who they loved, once again renewed. History repeating itself.

But that will all change years later, with another protest simmering in the distance spearheaded by the son of a US Senator. His involvement with the cause will give it notoriety and make people pay attention. It also came at the right time. There were simply too many cracks in the system, too many people who fell in love with the people not on their arms. There were too many people with lost soulmates. Suicides because of the marks were increasing in number that not even the media can smooth it over. The people were slowly realizing that this was another law that put a specific group of people with elevated privilege against another group of people. More high profile people started to show their support for the cause.

Down the line, there will be another high-profile rally and the whole country will be listening to them.

That’s when it will all change.

_BOOM_! goes the shot.

And they all fall down.


	2. Soulmate Marks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Dalton and all its characters belong the lovely CP Coulter who has been kind enough to let them come and play.
> 
> This is a complete AU which means our lovely folk never went to Dalton. The complete and utter _horror_ right? Also, I use the term Soulmate!AU very loosely because while, yes, they do have "soulmate marks"....well, you'll see later. (I hope.)
> 
> Many thanks to Mama CP for beta-ing and Juliet for dealing with my crazy and being my lovely artist. Many thanks also to the people on Plurk for cheering me on. I hope you enjoy. (All leftover mistakes are my fault!) <3
> 
>  **Warning** for mentions of suicide and vague references to self-harm, especially towards the end. Please take caution.

“ _Soulmate marks generally appear between the ages of thirteen and nineteen but there are several instances in which they appear much later in a person’s life. The latest recorded age for a person to receive his mark during the generation where soulmate marks were the norm was fifty two years old._

_ The marks appear on the person’s dominant hand – the hand that the person favors. It is written in the handwriting of your soulmate with a small flag on the bottom-right signifying the country of origin of your soulmate. _

_ The color of the mark is black but the pigment of it cannot be replicated by any ink. The soulmate mark adapts to your skin, making it near impossible to be imitated or faked. _

_Altering or forging the soulmate mark is illegal and punishable by law. One can choose to hide his or her soulmate mark as per the terms of the Soulmate Privacy Act…_ ”

\- _Introduction to Soulmate Marks ; Charlotte Kingsley_

 

* * *

 

Sydney hated Mondays.

Mondays meant that the garbage was slightly late in the mornings and that means having to deal with the old lady next door screaming her head off about it. That would then mean that Justin would startle awake at the sound and be cranky for the rest of the day because he didn’t get enough shut-eye. It meant having to deal with Justin and his tea when she doesn't have to because every other day, he would still be sleeping when she left in the mornings. And because she has to deal with Justin and his tea, she would have to get her coffee at the nearest Starbucks which would throw her whole schedule off.

(She tried to deny that Mondays mean Soulmate 104 classes because she is _not_ bitter despite what her classmates say. She just had different insights when it came to why the class was mandatory for all.)

But most importantly, Mondays meant that the replies to the soulmate ads at the _Soulmate Inquirer_ were sent to their recipients, which meant that at 5 in the afternoon, her brother would be sitting at the stoop of their brownstone with an expression akin to a kicked puppy.

“I just don’t understand,” Spencer whined, propping his feet on the coffee table. Sydney glared at him, nudging his feet off the table with a sound slap. “I made extra sure I spelled her name right. M-E-R-R-I-L. Double Rs not Ls. I even sprayed some of my cologne on the letter for luck. I’ve been writing to the newspaper for months now. She sounds American, doesn’t she? I mean, the name. Portman is American, isn’t it? This is an American flag right?” Sydney let out an indignant yelp when Spencer thrust his arm out towards her, pointing insistently at the tiny flag. Within seconds, he deflated, flopping ungracefully back on his seat. “I mean, yeah I guess it’s possible that she lives somewhere else but…am I gonna have to join one of those underground soulmate websites?”

“Spencer,” Sydney sighed, rubbing her temples as she settled down on the armchair. “You don’t even know if she reads the Inquirer. She may not have the means to get her hands on it. It is illegal, remember?”

The _Soulmate Inquirer_ was an underground newspaper, mainly known for its soulmate ads. Actively seeking one’s soulmate through any means, aside from a few detective agencies that paid the authorization fee for soulmate searching (which is the main reason why their fees cost a small fortune), was considered illegal under the terms of the Soulmate Conservation Law. The law promotes organic and natural means to find your soulmate for optimum results, which basically meant that you have to let fate do what it’s supposed to do. Serendipity, as they call it. They believe that you will meet your soulmate at the right place, at the right time.

It’s why soulmate ads were illegal as the newspapers that run them don’t pay the authorization fee for soulmate searching but this is the route most people take as submissions don’t cost a thing. You just write your soulmate’s name along with a message and your name and hand it over to the friend who told you about the paper in the first place. Everything was hand-delivered which meant no paper trail. On every Monday, if you received a reply, the paper will deliver the message to you.

They never failed in delivering a message.

“Illegal or not, it’s still a pretty popular publication,” Spencer argued. “It’s like one of those torrent sites! You know about it despite the fact that you shouldn’t know about it.”

“If you get a virus on your laptop, I’m not lending you money to get it fixed,” Sydney warned. Spencer rolled his eyes, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, frustrated that his sister seemed to be missing the point.

“What if I never meet her?” he asked softly, looking at his trembling hands. He sat back with a jolt, rubbing his chest and willing the sharp pain of fear to go away. He feared it. He feared never meeting his Merril. He knew about the stories of lost soulmates – of dead soulmates. He didn’t even care if she was some decrepit old lady from Nebraska. He just wanted to meet her, the person he was made for.

“I don’t see how that’s such a bad thing. It’s not the end of the world if you don’t meet the person written on your arm.”

Spencer’s eyes shot up to look at his sister at that. Why couldn’t she see that meeting the people that marked them was the whole point? There had to be a reason why these marks appeared. Spencer always love that myth where Zeus separated the humans that had four arms, four legs and two faces and left them to a lifetime of searching for their other half.  He needed to know that he had a purpose…and that someone would love him as he is.

“You just don’t understand do you?” He couldn’t stop the words from spilling from his lips. He was just tired. He knew Sydney probably thought he was an idiot for believing but he couldn’t understand how she could not want to find her soulmate – her other half. “I feel like something is missing, Syd. I just feel this pull. Fate has basically handcrafted a way for us to have our happily ever after. How could you not want to meet the person you were made for?”

Sydney bristled at that. “What does that mean?”

Spencer hesitated, cursing his lack of brain to mouth filter. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it, Spencer?” She stood up, towering over him; she was always towering over him. Sydney was always the stronger one, the better one. He was always the naïve brother, always shrinking in her presence. She clenched her fists in frustration at his silence. “I don’t have to look for my other half, Spence. I already found him.”

“Yeah, I get that, I do! It’s just…” He paused, trying to piece his thoughts together. He needed to think through his words carefully, knowing this was already a delicate issue between the two of them. “

“Wazzgoinun?” The twins both turned at the noise. Justin blinked sleepily at them, scratching his head from where he stood at the bedroom door.

“Nothing. Go back to bed, man. I was just leaving.” Sydney glanced back at her brother, already regretting snapping at him.  She knew she couldn’t help the way her brother felt about the laws any more than he could change her views. She had to be the more understanding one. It just stung that they were on opposite sides when it came to this. “I’ll see you some other day, sis.”

With a quick brush of lips against Sydney’s hair and a quick pat on Justin’s shoulder, Spencer was out the door.  Frustrated, Sydney sank back against the sofa and sighed, covering her face with her hands. It would always be a point of conflict between them – Spencer’s total and utter belief in the system and Sydney’s total disdain for it. There times she forgot because the two of them rarely had a fight that lasted for a whole day but there were just times and moments that forced it to the forefront of her mind, in sharp focus.

“Hey.” Sydney made a soft noise as an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. She felt lips pressing against her hair, soothing her. “Hey, come on. Come back to bed.”

“This really means a lot to him,” she whispered, dropping her hands to play with the soft fabric of his shirt. “I think it’s starting to scare him. He’s been writing to that newspaper for months now and still no reply.”

Justin’s hand found itself over her hand, stilling its movement. He always made her still. She, the girl who needed to always be on the move, to always do something and he, with his calm and steady demeanor – no wonder fate thought they didn’t match. “It’ll come,” he said, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. “He knows that, deep inside. Franticness just happens to be his first reaction to just about everything, really. Not just this.”

Sydney softly sighed. There were times that she did wonder what it was like…to feel that pull and that yearning but one look at Justin and all she felt was just stillness and belonging. All she felt was that she was where she belonged.

“Now come on, back to bed, love.” With a loud and obnoxious smack on her forehead, Justin disentangled himself from her and stood up from the couch, making his way back into their bedroom.

Sydney huffed a little, smiling, before getting up from their couch. She started to head back towards their bedroom but caught her reflection against the large mirror on the way, catching a glimpse of the looping script on her arm. Her eyes trained on it, she turned her arm over and gently touched the small US flag at the bottom of the name. _50% of the time, your soulmate comes from the country of your origin,_ her Introduction to Soulmate Marks class reminded her. She thought back to the UK flag that she knew - memorized really - was on Justin's arm. (It had its fair share of bites and hickeys, as if marking him enough would change the name on his arm. _He's mine,_ she says with every bite.  _I'm the one he chose. He's_ mine.) She pulled her hand back instantly, as if it scalded her. She shook her head, smiling at her silliness before she hurried inside her bedroom.

She was right where she belonged.

 

* * *

 

“Shut it down!”

Logan barely raised his eyes from his book at the sound of his father slamming the door to his study shut. Ignoring the nudge from his right, he turned a page on his book and continued on reading. A harder nudge that quickly became a shove, the blond raised his eyes, throwing his friend a glare.

“What was that about?” Derek asked, propping his legs over Logan’s own. The other boy’s glare directed itself to his legs, as if the mere force of his glare would move Derek’s legs off his own. “He sounded really pissed.”

“He always sounds pissed,” Logan said lazily, kicking out his legs to get the bothersome weight to get off of him. At Derek’s insistent push – it was a shove, really – he sighed and raised a hand to pinch his nose. “There was another protest in front of his office again.”

John Logan Wright Jr. was one of the many proponents of the Soulmate Law. It did well for his public image.

Derek raised an eyebrow, putting his hands behind his head and pushing off the bed to balance the chair on two legs. Logan half-wished he’d just fall on his ass so he’d learn his lesson. “Still about the soulmate law?”

“What else?” Logan closed his book, already knowing there was no way he’d finish his reading with this talk. “Suicide rates have spiked again. People are getting restless. Kids are _dying_ over this law, Derek.”

“Yeah, I heard about that kid from Denver,” Derek said somberly, blinking at the ceiling. “He was, what? Seventh in a month?”

“Tenth,” Logan said softly.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Derek swore. He never really understood why people would kill themselves over love but sometimes he wondered what it would be like if he fell deeply in love with someone only to realize he could never have her because of a name on his wrist. He wondered what that would feel – the desperation – and if it could drive him to do something drastic.

He paused for a moment, staring at his friend who was staring at his closed book contemplatively as if it held all the answers of the universe. “If you had a chance to join those protests coming up left and right, would you?”

Logan sucked in a breath, but not in surprise. Truth be told, he’d been thinking about it a lot.  It was a big action. He had always rebelled against his father, went against everything that was expected from him but it was one thing to send dick-shaped balloons to one of his social gatherings and another thing to openly defy him in public. He could almost imagine the headlines if he was spotted in one of the protests. _SON OF SENATOR PROTESTING AGAINST THE SOULMATE LAW: A sign of teenage rebellion or is there something more at play?_ It’d be a media disaster. He’d be lucky not to get disowned.

But on the other hand, he sympathized with the protestors. There have been moments, and there will _always_ be moments, in history where a group of people were given more privilege than other people – hell, the non-soulmate relationships were not the only ones discriminated against in this day and age. There were still plenty of cases of racist and homophobic-related crimes all over the country. Some of the countries still haven’t allowed gay marriage, even years after it was considered legal in all states in the US.

He wasn’t a world peace kind of guy, he knew the world was shitty and would continue to be shitty but he understood their plight.

A glimpse of the cuff wrapped around his right wrist made him clench his fists.

He understood it well.

“I…suppose.” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s a flawed system, Derek. I think even my father, who is all in support of it because of his political image, knows that. ‘Sides, the only good thing this law has even done for me was separate my parents. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it did since they were fucking miserable together but still.”

John Logan Wright Jr. and his then-wife Cordelia were high school sweethearts. They were an on again and off again kind of couple but everyone knew they were going to end up together. Nobody was surprised when they ended up getting married.

But their passionate high school relationship translated poorly into marriage. They were too alike, both quick to anger and arguments. At one point, it was a happy relationship continuing until they had Logan but once John set his sights into politics, he grew ambitious and distant. There were accuses of affairs on both sides and the ensuing screaming fits and endless fights led to Logan’s neglect and abandonment. They were both capable of being nasty and they knew where to hit where it hurt. It never got physical between them but there was always a dangerous tension between them that belied how destructive they were to each other.

The straw that finally broke the camel’s back was when John discovered another name, a different name, on Cordelia’s wrist. He grew desperate to fix his marriage, for his sake, for little Logan and partly – _mostly_ – because of his blooming political career. But Cordelia had enough, packed up her things and left.

Logan was five.

“So yeah, I suppose I would. I’m not saying I’m getting up right now and going out to enlist in a protest group or anything but if the right opportunity arose, I probably would. It’d be nice, you know, if people everyone who had relationships had an opportunity to marry. I’m not the marrying kind, I think it’s going be a long way before I become the marrying kind but I’d at least like to have a choice in the matter.” Derek remained a silent, truthfully a little stunned that Logan seemed to have thought about it long and hard. Uncomfortable at the increasingly awkward silence, the blond cleared his throat. “Non-soulmate relationships have been increasing in number - and I mean _relationships_ not whatever you’ve been having - and I think they’d like the choice too.”

“Hey.” Derek steadied his chair, landing it on all fours. He pointed a finger at the blond, who blinked at it with disinterest. “You don’t know if I’ve been having non-soulmate relationships. I don’t even know if I’m having non-soulmate relationships.”

Logan’s eyes shifted towards Derek’s wrist, his mouth thinning in a line as he spotted the smooth surface where the other boy’s soulmate mark should have been. He was lucky. “With the amount of flings you went through, I’m pretty sure at least 99.9% - if not _all_ of them considering your chances – are non-soulmate relationships,” he drawled.

Derek shrugged, placing his hands behind his head again. “I guess not even fate can tie this bachelor down.”

Logan chose to ignore his statement. “How are things with you and Casey anyways?”

To a stranger’s eye, one would detect no difference in the brunet’s expression but Logan could see the softness in his smile and the proverbial twinkle in his eye. Logan’s eyebrows rose at that in wonder. She must be really good for him.

“Things are…yeah.” One of Derek’s hands rubbed at the nape of his neck, giving away his boyish demeanor. For all the pompous and devil-may-care air that he gives out, sometimes Logan forgets that Derek is just a teenage boy. Uncharacteristic as this shy moment can be, it gave him an air of youngness that Logan so rarely sees. “I mean, it’s nothing serious! But…yeah, they’re good.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Logan said sincerely. He could see Derek sometimes buckling under the weight of his studies so for him to have a steady thing in his life was a good thing. Maybe Casey could finally be his anchor, something to help him settle down.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I got it. I’ll check on the script first thing in the morning. _Goodbye_ , Carmen.”

Julian shut the door behind him as he ended the call, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He shoved his phone in his pocket and dropped face first into Logan’s bed. He started to speak but his words were muffled.

“Pardon?” Derek asked pointedly, shoving at his body with his toe.

Julian raised a hand to slap his foot away, turning over to stare at the ceiling. “Carmen’s really kicking my ass with that script. Apparently it’s a ‘big’ project but man, sometimes I need some breathing space for more than five seconds.” His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a breath.

Logan eyed him curiously, noting the way his eyelashes ever so slightly touched his cheeks or the way his sharp cheekbones gave way to the softness of his cheeks or the way the un-styled fringe of his hair slightly covered his eyes. He noted the way his half-open lips looked as soft as his skin felt, and felt a long to press his fingers against the space between them. Startled at the direction his thoughts went, Logan’s eyes snapped back up where he found sepia eyes staring at him lazily from beneath long lashes.

Julian's lips curled into a small smirk. _I see you watching me,_ his smile basically said. Logan's breath hitched. ( _I would like to touch my lips to yours,_  his uneven breaths said.  _Do you taste like that cherry lollipop you love?_ ) They stared at each other a touch of a moment too long before Julian’s eyes fluttered shut. Logan tilted his head, looking at the way his chest rose and fell at the motion of his soft breaths. It always amazed him how easily Julian fell asleep in sunlight. He remembered the way Julian would just find a sun spot to curl up under and how he – or Derek – would just find him asleep in the weirdest places. He tried to ignore the growing warmth in his chest at the memory.

His grip on his book tightened as he fought the urge to brush his fingers against Julian’s forehead. His itched to untie his cuff – the one that hid his soulmate’s name – to touch his mark and to feel it under his fingertips. He needed to see that it was real, that it was right.

 _Julian Larson_.

It was written in a looping script, he remembered.  He always remembered. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it as if it was burned in the back of his eyelids. He will never forget it or the moment when he discovered it. How could you forget the time when you found out that one of your best friends is the one made for you – heart and soul?

He glanced at the similar cuff around Julian’s wrist. Standard issue for those who want to keep their soulmate’s name hidden, as per the rights listed in the Soulmate Privacy Act where an individual can choose to keep their soulmate’s name hidden. It was something celebrities regularly did to increase their marketability and availability. It didn’t matter that they already had a soulmate name, in fact many fans loved that. What truly mattered is that you gave the fans the opportunity to think that it was your name on their arm. Celebrity-fan soulmate bonds were not unheard of. The soulmate pool of celebrities was not restricted to their peers.

If he was the name around Julian’s wrist, wouldn’t have the actor said anything? But still, he couldn’t help but hope. He knew there were discrepancies with the offspring of non-soulmate bonds, something that went wrong with their genetic makeup. There was a 25% possibility with the children of non-soulmate bonds that they weren’t the soulmate of _their_ soulmate. No one really knew why this anomaly existed because no research was ever dedicated to it since the government liked to pretend that nothing was wrong with their system. It was unheard of - the possibility that someone's soulmate mark did not match its pair.

But it happens. Glitches always happen in a system.

Yet another reason, in the eyes of the conservatives, to make non-soulmate bonds illegal. _Think of the children_.  _You're leading them into a life of solitude with your filth._

He continued to hope.

 

* * *

 

Reed Van Kamp was not waiting for his soulmate.

He had too many other things to worry about besides a name on his arm. He has to think about the designs he has to present to his mother in two weeks. He has to think about the paintings that he has to submit to that art exhibit in Paris. He had too many things to do in so little time that there were just days where he almost went out of the house in worn sweatpants and paint in his hair.

He did not have time to think about his soulmate.

He didn’t even have a soulmate to think about yet.

He knew he had no reason to worry. There were plenty of late bloomers everywhere. The time of appearance of the soulmate marks varied from person to person – something about hormones and genes.  He need not worry.

He wasn’t worrying, he insisted to himself as he tried to focus on his sketches. Rough drafts of them were already due a week back and he was falling behind. He had to try harder, to push himself. He had to make his mom proud. He had no time to think about soulmates.

 _He wondered if his soulmate would be proud of him_.

He tore out another page from his sketchbook in annoyance, crumpling it in a ball and throwing it in the general direction of the trash bin. He continuously itched at his arm until the skin became red and irritated. It had been itching for days now, and he hoped he didn’t develop some sort of rash. Maybe his mom had something for the itching. He should ask her when she returned.

He pushed off his desk and stood with a groan, stretching his taut muscles. He had been sitting in front of his desk, trying to procure _good_ sketches for hours now he could feel a cramp coming. And then came the itch again. Annoyed, Reed peered at his arm, trying to look for the source.

He promptly froze, heart jumping to his throat.

He could unmistakably see the faintest sign of letters on his arm.  With every second that passed, they grew darker until they were readable. He never knew they could develop so fast. He found himself almost disappointed at the lack of suspense. Quickly snapping himself out of his thoughts, he clutched his arm to keep it steady – he was trembling so hard and he was _so_ very nervous. No interest or time with soulmates or not, he was still curious. This was the person he was destined to be with after all, if what their government was saying was true.

With a deep breath, he focused until he could read the handwriting. (Reed was slightly amused that his soulmate’s handwriting was barely legible.)

 _Shane Anderson_.

Below the name was a small US flag.

Reed couldn’t breathe. He knew that this Shane could be a girl – it was a perfectly unisex name. He knew quite a few models with that name. But he knew, deep inside, that he was a he. He felt it. He _felt_ it. And he couldn’t breathe. His chest protested, aching at the lack of air with his stuttered breaths but he just couldn’t _breathe_. He physically could _not_ suck in the breaths he knew he should take. He felt like his throat was closing up and his chest felt so tight.

He had a soulmate.

His soulmate was a boy.

He was going to throw up.

Dimly, he thought of how he actually didn’t mind that his soulmate was a boy. Sexuality was never a big deal for him. He never really cared. He never really had a preference. When he was surrounded by half-naked people during the countless of fashion shoots his mother dragged him around to, he was more focused on doing a good job and helping rather than the fact that there were gorgeous ( _half-naked_ ) models around him. He was more focused on the way they were styled and the way the clothes looked on them rather than, well, _them_.

He wasn’t blind, of course. He found them aesthetically pleasing, beautiful in the way models are supposed to look beautiful but that was it. It was purely a shallow thing, like looking at art pieces. You ' _oooh_ 'ed and ' _aaah_ 'ed at them, and recognize the fact that they're amazing art pieces but your nether regions don't really tingle because of them. (Except for maybe a select few. Reed knew some of them existed. Some rare letters that find their way into his mom's office concerning his paintings proved that.)

_But his mom._

He knew being gay didn’t faze the fashion community but the shock of his soulmate being a boy dissolved his logic. He didn’t even mind that his soulmate was a boy but his mother. How could his mother—how will his mother even react? He didn’t know where his mother stood on the matter and the thought of disappointing her further distraught the poor boy.

He clutched at his throat, trying to stop the sob threatening to break out of him before he rushed towards his bathroom. He had to have some high grade concealer around here somewhere. He had to. A mixed of desperation and tears blurred his vision.

When he found the tiny tube, he silently cursed at his trembling hands as he struggled to open it. With a gasp of relief at the fact that he managed to open a tube of concealer, he hurriedly applied it against his arm. He grew more and more distraught as he realized that the mark only seemed to grow darker and the concealer was doing absolutely nothing to hide it.

Frustrated, he threw the tube against the mirror. He scratched at his arm desperately, willing it to go away. It needed to go away before his mom found him. His tears blurred his vision, as he continued to claw at his skin. He felt a sharp pain, but nothing too painful to jar him out of his haze. He grew more and more desperate with each moment that passed. He needed to-- it _had_ to…gone _gone gone_.

“Honey?”

Reed looked up in alarm. (How did he get on the floor?) His mother was peering down at him in concern, looking immaculate in a white dress. Compared to her, he must look like a mess. He always looked like a mess, with his riot of curls and bandages that accumulate every time he fell down or tripped, with the paint under his nails and the smudges of charcoal against his fingers. His mother always looked impeccable, never a hair out of place. How was he her son? Hilde, Winston and Clark looked like the perfect family and well, him? He always looked like an outsider.

Today just proved it even more.

With every step that Hilde took towards him, Reed fought the urge to cower and to retreat. He mustn’t show a sign of weakness any more than he already had. Hilde gracefully lowered herself on the floor – he fought the urge to gasp out loud because _her dress_ – and gently pried his arm away from him.

Defeated, Reed let her. He watched her blankly as she stared at what he did. He watched the horror dawn upon her face and at that, he couldn’t find the tears anymore.  

“I’m—I’m not,” Reed babbled helplessly, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to cover his arm. She wouldn’t let go. “Mom, I’m not. I swear, I’m not. I don’t even—I don’t know.” He continued on crying, a helpless feeling of horror spreading throughout his body as he stared at his mother.

“Oh honey,” Hilde said softly as she reached out to her little boy, hand finding his cheek to caress it and wipe his tears away. The little thing was trembling so hard. She pulled him closer to him, gently cradling his head like she always did when he was just a little baby. The way she held him when she bounced him around, trying to calm his endless sobbing. “We can find a way.”

Reed hiccupped, trying to calm his tears. “A way?”

“We _will _ find a way to keep this hidden, alright honey?” She pulled him away a little to look at his sweet face. She used her thumb to keep the oncoming tears away, smiling softly and gently at him. “Don’t worry. We'll fix it.”

Reed started to cry harder. His mother must’ve interpreted his tears as a sign of relief but he wasn’t, even though he felt like he should be. But how could he be? His own mother was ashamed of him. She wanted to _fix him_. (I'm not broken, he quietly thought. _This is not something that needs to be_ fixed.) She was so ashamed that she wanted it to be hidden. He disappointed her. He was an inconvenience. He will always be the inconvenience.

“Now come on,” Hilde said, still smiling. Reed quietly thought her smile can cut glass. “Let’s get those cuts cleaned up.”

Confused, Reed glanced at his arm.  His eyes widened at the sight of the small scratches on it. He looked at his fingers and found dried blood under his fingernails. He barely even felt the pain.

Hilde rose gracefully, helping Reed stand up with his unsteady legs. He glanced at his mom for a moment and chose to ignore the sharp pain in his chest at her faltering smile as she stared at his arm.

Grimly, he thought he should’ve put a knife against it instead.

 

* * *

 

_“When you first get your soulmate mark, you may experience overwhelming emotions. These emotions can range from happiness, to surprise, to horror. This is normal. Hormones are at a peak when soulmate marks arrive._

_It is normal to feel apprehension when your soulmate marks first appear but one should always remember that soulmate marks are a good thing. They tell you the name of the person made for you in every possible way. Soulmate marks mean never-ending happiness – finding your other half so to speak. There are multiple studies dedicated to the benefits of being with your soulmates – from improved overall mood to sexual satisfaction.  It is highly recommended for every individual to seek out their soulmates.”_

\- _So Your Soulmate Mark Has Finally Appeared –What to Do Next?  by Alice Henley_


	3. Freethinkers and Radicals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** All characters are by the lovely CP Coulter. I'm merely borrowing them to play with in this tiny 'verse of mine.
> 
> Oh man, I can't even express my apologies for the delay in the chapter. I'm really trying to spew out as many chapters as I could possibly get but school got in the way and prevented me from writing as often as I wanted. But yeah, here it is and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Many thanks to my lovely beta-bells Mama CP for holding my hand through this chapter and helping me grow as a writer!

 

_“In this week’s breaking news, the anarchist group Freethinkers have announced their plans to form a gather together for a peaceful rally at Zuccotti Park on Wednesday.  The Freethinkers along with another group called the Radicals are rebel groups  dedicated to fighting for marriage equality. Some liken the cause to that of the gay rights movement in the early to late 2000s when large groups of people regularly protested in different sides of the country for equal rights until its legalization in the late 2000s._

_In other news, the Something Damaged cast are going on a country-wide tour starting Tuesday! Ticket sales for the fan signings are available at their website. Be sure not to miss any events by buying tickets as early as today.”_

 

* * *

 

“Equal rights! Equal rights!”

The voices of the Radicals escalated as they walked along the streets of New York, waving their signs and boards around. Several of their member ran around, vandalizing the walls of the streets with spray paint yelling out EQUAL RIGHTS in bright, bold letters.

The Radicals were creatures of the night, preferring to protest in the cloak of darkness - in direct contrast to their sister group, the Freethinkers. The two groups were as different as day and night - peace over violence. Two sides of the same coin.

“We have been silent for too long! You will not stifle our voices! We will fight for our right!”

"Tear down the Soulmate Law!"

"SHUT IT DOWN!"

One of their group’s member’s partner had died in the hospital - _alone_. He had no other family in the country who could have arrived in time and since they weren’t soulmates, his partner was not allowed to visit him since the hospital restricted access to family only. She had no right to see the love of her life - someone she'd been with for over ten years. She had to wait for his family to arrive to even claim the body.

She committed suicide five days later. 

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. The Radicals had been on the down low since the last protest the year before that ended in casualties but they will not be silent as they trampled over the rights of the people. It was enough.

“Police!” one of the members at the front yelled out. They all scrambled into position, pushing through the warnings of the police in front of them. They continued to push through, fighting through the force of the water cannons. Their voices grew louder and louder, echoing through the quiet streets. From their mouths to the ears of whoever was awake at the late hour, listening. They pushed through, always pushing through.

It wasn’t long before the police started using the tear gas - fearing the sheer number of them -  but they still pushed through. Coughing and gagging, rubbing at their eyes, they yelled and yelled until their lungs hurt. They were numerous, loud and angry. They were a threat - as they ought to be. They yelled even as the police descended upon them and arrested whoever they could get their hands on. They yelled even as they ran away, startling the random passerby who was insane enough to be out in the New York streets at this hour.

They yelled to be heard, to be remembered.

It was enough.

They have had enough of being ignored, of being forgotten, of being brushed to the side.

They had become silent for too long.

It was time for them to be heard.

Peace was never an option. 

 

* * *

 

“Leaving so soon?”

Julian started for a moment, his clutch on his carry-on tightening. He turned around at the source of the sound, thanking the maid who helped him quietly and found Logan leaning against the wall, casually sipping a cup of hot coffee. The blond still looked pretty sleep-rumpled, in that casual way about him. He never looked quite disheveled, almost like that out of place hair that was falling in front of his eyes was placed there deliberately. He looked like a sculpture of an angel or some deity, leaning casually against the wall with his halo of blond hair and his crisp white shirt that was hastily worn, and his black slacks that hugged his muscled legs.

He was beautiful  and Julian _ached_. 

“Yeah,” Julian said roughly. He looked away and cleared his throat. “Carmen called again late last night. Apparently, the whole Something Damaged cast got rounded at the last minute for some sort of press tour. The rest of the cast are en route right now.” He didn’t understand the need for a press tour since the show was dominating the ratings for years now. But obligations were obligations and Julian was in no position to object. “I dunno when I’ll be back. Just tell Derek when he wakes up, yeah? Can’t afford to wait ‘til that lump wakes up before I go.”

Julian was surprised when he heard a slight chuckle come from Logan. “So that’s what that lady my father hired meant when she said it was ‘handled’.” He saw a trace of a bitter smile on Logan’s face before it disappeared when he took another sip of his coffee. “That’s actually pretty smart.”

Julian felt like he was missing pretty vital information here. “What are you talking about?”

Logan raised his eyes in surprise, as if only just realizing that the other boy was still there. When he saw Julian’s confusion, he merely smiled. It was a soft smile, indicating that he wasn’t mocking him and his apparent cluelessness. “You’re the media blanket. “ At the actor’s continuous lack of comprehension, he continued. “It’s a tactic most politicians with enough power use. They call some big networks, pay them off or work out some sort of deal – most of the time it’s when some civil unrest is boiling someplace that they can’t afford to come at a peak – and use it to…well, _distract_ the public, in a manner of speaking. You’re the stars of the biggest television show on air right now. It makes sense that they’d contact you.”

A chill went down Julian’s spine as Logan continued. “I heard there’s gonna be a high profile Freethinkers rally in a couple of days. Wednesday, I think? Father’s camp must have heard about that too - probably why they rushed to get you to do this tour. That group is growing, gaining a lot of sympathy. Probably to get a lid on that Radicals protest last night too. Heard there were injuries.” The blond smiled ruefully at his coffee cup, hating the helplessness he felt in his bones.  “No matter how rushed this all seems, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna work anyways. Your TV show’s big enough to distract the public from that rally entirely.”

With every word Logan spoke about the issue, Julian grew angrier and angrier.  He shouldn’t be surprised at the lengths people in power went through to keep the public in the dark and hide the deeper issues in the background without recognition. He knew that time did not change the government - that there might be one good seed once in a while but all the bad seeds will always far outweigh them. The government, in its essence, would always be self-serving. They won’t care about anything else other than their own security and those who could make a difference would either be too much of a coward to take a stance against what is considered the norm, or those whose voices would always be stifled by the ones with more power.

Non-soulmate bond rights was one of the biggest issues this country has faced since the gay rights movement in the early to late 2010s. The fact that the issues they gay rights movement faced were still issues in this day and time angered Julian to an extent that he couldn’t understand. The fact that basic human rights were still things to fight for in this day and age made Julian feel validated about the little faith he had in mankind.

 _That’s the importance of learning our history, to prevent the mistakes humanity has made before_ , their history teacher’s voice echoed in his head. _But sometimes, yes, it is not enough. History does repeat itself. Humanity is prone to making mistakes. That’s what makes us dangerous to our own kind._

He tightened his grip on his carry on until his knuckles turned white from the strength of his grip. The fact that he had a hand in stifling the movement that he – albeit quietly – support simply made him _angry._

“This is _bullshit,_ ” Julian spit out venomously,  finally snapping and slamming his carry-on on the floor. He was seething that he wanted to break something. He paced restlessly, clenching his fists tightly. “Isn’t there something we could do? Maybe expose them to the public? I know he’s your father, Logan but he is a complete _asshole._ These are people’s rights we are talking about.” He paused in his pacing and grabbed his phone from his pocket, planning on cancelling his flight to L.A. - refusing to be a pawn in their games any longer.

Seconds of Logan’s silence made Julian think that the blond disagreed. He was about to go on a tirade on how ironic it was that he didn’t support the movement when if people didn’t fight for human rights in the past, he wouldn’t have the chance to marry his soulmate at all. The possibility of him marrying his soulmate would be zero to none because gay rights would be _illegal_. How _dare_ he be passive about this when he was the one most outraged when he found about the laws in the late 2010s.

Was it really true about privileged people? That when it came to things that did not concern them, to laws that did not step on _their_ rights, they would do nothing to stop it?  Julian’s heart sank as he felt his faith in Logan lessening. He felt his faith in  _himself_ lessening. Were they really the spoiled and privileged people that silently fed the problem in their silence that they learned about in their history lessons? Were they the people that stood by in the sidelines while peoples’ rights were trampled over by the more privileged?

But the expression on Logan’s face was not one of passiveness but one of complete and utter surprise. As if he was surprised that Julian felt so passionately about the non-soulmate rights movement. Unnerved by his expression, Julian straightened his posture and looked away, forcing himself into an air of nonchalance again. He tapped his foot, brow furrowing as Carmen’s phone went to voicemail. He tried to call her again, avoiding Logan’s gaze.

“I never expected that you felt so strongly about this,” Logan said, finally snapping out of his trance. A small smile formed on his lips, liking this side of Julian that he saw. “Don’t get me wrong, I completely agree. But when has this system ever been fair, especially to the likes of us?” His gaze landed on the phone in Julian’s hand. “I know you’re probably going to try to do the noble thing here and try to cancel but just, don’t, Jules. Even if you cancelled, your castmates would still do the tour and nothing really changes.”

He was right. Even if he didn’t go, there were still his castmates who were probably at the meeting point. _Do they know about this?_ he wondered quietly. He hoped not. He knew the others already found their soulmates, except for Nathan and Cameron but he still hoped that they wouldn’t be so callous as to not care for the rights of others. (Except for maybe Natasha. Julian was pretty sure Natasha had ice in her veins instead of blood.)

“So go, Jules. Maybe you can even use that privilege of yours to raise awareness on the issue.” Logan smiled distantly, as if he wasn’t really expecting Julian would do it. And why would he? Julian never really showed any signs that he supported the cause. He was just as bad as the rest of them, keeping quiet when he had the power to speak up. _That changes now,_ he thoughts determinedly.  

Julian started when his phone finally rang. The shrill sound of his ringtone broke the peace between them and Julian almost shivered at the sudden shift of the tone between them. He huffed a little, answering the phone in his hands immediately.

“Hello?” he answered. He rolled his eyes when Carmen’s voice answered. _Fucking figures._  “Yes, yes, I know I’m late. I was just calling you to say I’m on the way right now. Yes, I understand. _Carmen_ , I’m coming. Calm down. I’m on the way to the airport right now. For the last time, I _understand._ I’m coming. Goodbye, _Carmen_.”

He hung up on her, glimpsing at Logan. He was back to leaning against the wall, sipping his coffee quietly. The air of hesitation between them was back, both having trouble finding their footing after the serious nature of their conversation. Julian rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say. Some - bad - part of him was still quietly weighing the pros and cons of speaking up about the Soulmate Law. It would change his reputation, he knew. Saying something about a cause as controversial as this always resulted in some sort of backlash.

“You’ll be coming back soon, yeah?” Logan’s voice broke through his thoughts. He looked at him, and he was surprised at the strength and belief in his gaze - as if he knew that Julian would make the right choice.

“I’ll call,” Julian promised, giving him an even better thing to look forward to. Logan smiled, raising his cup to him, quietly saying that _you better_. He bent down to retrieve his hold on his carry-on and gripped his suitcase. He startled a little when a beep of a car came from outside.

“I got the car ready for you. It’ll be taking you to the airport.” Julian was grateful. In his tiredness, he forgot to call for a cab. He really was in a hurry, despite everything. “Jules? Come back to us before summer ends, yeah?”  

Julian smirked at him, hiding his surprise with arrogance. “Why? Afraid you’ll miss me too much?”

Logan shrugged a little. “Derek might.” Silently, Julian’s anticipation fell as quickly as it rose. “And well, yes. I will. I suppose.” He chucked self-consciously and rubbed the back of his neck. Julian was struck with the sight, realizing how boyish Logan looked when he did that. Nothing like the arrogant boy he knew. “It would be weird not stumbling over people who keep on insisting on napping on the floor’s quietest sun spots.”

Julian glared at him indignantly, though there was no real heat behind it. _Seriously_ , he thought. _It was only_ one _time_.

The actor startled as Logan moved from his spot, walking towards him. He straightened his posture, not really knowing what Logan was going to do. When the blond merely walked past him, Julian held his breath. He almost flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Just come back, okay? That’s all that matters.”

Julian smiled softly, peering at him from the corner of his eye.

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“Justin, come back to bed."

Justin bit back a laugh as he buttoned up his pants, turning around to face the beauty in his bed. Sydney lounged back against the headboard, the sheet barely covering what needs to be covered. Just one more inch and she could mostly definitely convince him to come back to bed. He’s only human after all.

“Can’t, Syd,” he said regretfully, picking a shirt blindly and shrugging it on. As much as he hated to leave her alone in their bed, he had matters to attend to. There was another protest meeting of a small group of Freethinkers in a small apartment a few blocks from where they lived and Justin was desperate to be able to join them.

Sydney crossed her arms behind her head, causing the sheet to slip a little. She smirked as she watched Justin’s eyes trail down her body. She could see the conflict written all over his face. “Come on, I’m sure we can go another round before you leave.”

“You have too much faith in my recovery speed,” he said ruefully. He buttoned up his shirt as fast as he could with shaking hands. “‘Sides, if I agree, I’m sure you’d want to go _another_ round until I pass out from exhaustion.”

Sydney fluttered her eyelashes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know, if you don’t want me to go to this meeting, you can just say so,” Justin told her. He knew that she worried, no matter how much she tried to hide it. The more Justin went to these meetings, the more his chances of actually joining a protest increased. She saw news clippings of those protests - so much shoving and mayhem and that wasn’t even when the police were involved. There was too much passion in the cause and passion resulted in chaos.

“I don’t want you to go.” Sydney’s face reddened, hearing the smallness of her own voice. She wasn’t small, or meek, weak. (Sometimes she hated the fact that Justin made her weak.)

“It’s just a meeting, Syd.”

Sydney huffed, turning away from him. “I don’t understand why you’d ask for my opinion when you’re going to go regardless of what I tell you anyways. I don’t want you to go, I say, but you go anyways. What’s the point of you asking me?”  

“I’m just saying, it’s just a meeting,” Justin said, trying to placate her. “The way you’re acting about this makes me feel like you’re thinking I’m going  to war or something. You’re the soldier in this relationship, Syd, not me.”

“Yeah, you’re just the free-thinking nonconformist who’s gonna get himself arrested or worse if he’s not too careful.” Justin flinched at the venom in her voice. He didn’t understand why she was so against this. Is it just concern for his safety or did she simply not like what they were fighting for? _But it concerns her too_ , Justin thought.

Sydney ignored him when he softly called out her name, ignoring the sudden shift in the weight on the bed that jostled her a little. “Don’t you like it?”

“Like what?” she grumbled out, already softening as she realized how out of line her tone was earlier. She didn’t want Justin to think that she was upset at him for fighting for _their_ rights.

“Your own personal Enjolras.” Sydney rolled her eyes at the reference. Sometimes she forgot that Justin can be such a dork sometimes. “Fighting for your right to love whoever you want to love. Come on, you must think it’s a little romantic.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m pretty sure Enjolras was fighting for their right to be free,” Sydney said, holding out a finger, refusing to give in. Justin raised an eyebrow, genuinely wondering if there was an actual difference between the two. Sydney ignored him. “There was a brick of a book about it. There was a whole song about it. There was a whole _musical_ about it. Second off, he _died,_ Justin. He died fighting for his cause. He was shot by policemen who did not agree with the way he fought for his rights. Do you really want to go along with that metaphor?”

“Is that why you don’t want me to go?” Justin leaned over her, cupping her cheek. She refused to soften up. She was upset, so upset. And she was..she was…”Nothing’s gonna happen to me, Sydney. I haven’t even been to any of those rallies. And I’m pretty sure none of us are going to build barricades and invite all of the United States of America to join in.”

“But you will. Don’t you see, Jus? You will go to one of those rallies. It’s the whole point of these meetings - to plan, yes but also to recruit people to join. One day you’re just gonna go be swept away by their ideals and their propaganda and one day I’ll just see you on the news. Arrested or worse.” Sydney tilted her chin up, clenching her jaw. When she first started dating Justin, she never expected him to grow increasingly fascinated with the movement. If she knew those innocent inquiries to the people who handed Anti-Soulmate Law Movement flyers along the street would lead to clandestine meetings that would cause their biggest fight in the history of their relationship, she would have nipped it in the bud when she had the chance.

“I’m going to meet with a group of Freethinkers,” Justin reasoned. “Not one of the Radicals. You’ve seen their rallies. You’ve seen how peaceful they do it. If it ever comes down to it, I won’t be one of those fighting against the policemen. It’s entirely peaceful, if it ever comes down to it.”

Freethinkers were one of the groups that headlined the fight against the Soulmate Law. In complete opposite to the Radicals, the Freethinkers were an entirely peaceful and intellectual group, fighting for equal rights through public speech and print media like the Soulmate Inquire to notify the public of their cause. The Freethinkers didn’t entirely dismiss the idea of soulmates entirely - which why the Soulmate Inquirer offered soulmate ads. (Though Sydney wondered why the name of the paper was _Soulmate_ Inquirer and not _Equality_ or _Non-Soulmate_ Inquirer and quickly realized that it was more convenient. The latter was a mouthful and the former had more accessibility. It was misleading but effective.)  All they wanted was equal rights, for the state to also recognize non-soulmate unions so they could be provided the same benefits. They were pacifists in nature and not one of their protests had ever led to violence. Their rallies were entirely legal - or as legal as rallies can get - gaining permission through all the proper channels.

“Justin, none of these meetings or rallies will ever be peaceful. As long as what you’re fighting for remains to be as controversial as our rights, it will never be peaceful. There will always be some conservative looking for some trouble and I don’t want you to be caught in the crossfire.” She bit her lip, taking a deep breath. “I know about war, okay? I don’t want you to go to war with our government. You’re not going to win.”

“I want to marry you, Sydney Willis.” She sucked in a breath at his statement. Justin simply smiled at her, taking her hand, and tracing a circle around her ring finger. “You are the one for me, Sydney Georgia Willis. You are…. _the girl_ that I’ve been waiting for my entire life. You make me feel a whirlwind of emotions and I am so so thankful for you. So thankful that I found you.” She let out a shaky breath at his words, not knowing what to say. “And it kills me that I can’t just... get down on one knee and be foolish and propose before we’re even ready because I got caught in a web of unconditional love and run off to the altar and marry you _right this moment_. But I can’t and I want to change that because I want to _marry you._ ”

Sydney smiled bitterly, trying to blink away the burning feeling in her eyes. She was surprised at the sudden shift in the topic. “We don’t have to get married, Justin. I love you, regardless of what a piece of paper and a piece of metal say.”

”No. All my life was devoted to finding the proper girl for me. My parents have searched all over god knows what world to find a girl to marry me off to. They only stopped when my soulmate mark appeared. Getting married was never my choice, Sydney.” Sydney reached out a brushed the tears off his cheek. He didn’t even notice that he was crying. “I want it to be my choice and I want it to be you. I want to stand in front of our friends and family and say _I do_ and that there’s this girl and she’s kind of all kinds of amazing and she makes me the right kind of wonderful crazy and _I am so so_ madly, passionately in love with her. . After years of my parents basically forcing me on every single woman in Britain—“

“Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration?” Sydney interrupted him, voice breaking as she held back her tears.

“—every single woman in Britain,” Justin repeated, causing Sydney to laugh at him. She hid her face in her hands as she trembled slightly, both in laughter and in tears. “I want to marry the person I’ve waited for my whole life. I don’t give a damn about what the name on my body says. You’re the one I’ve been waiting for. I want to show everyone we care about that I finally found that girl that I would be honored to spend my whole life with. I want you, Syd. I want all of you.”

“It’s just a piece of paper,” Sydney protested weakly, needing him to understand. It was pointless to hope for something that might not even come true. It took decades for gay marriage to be legalized across all states. This was just another hurdle for them – for their right to be with the one they loved. This might take decades too - decades they can’t afford to wait for. She would rather spend her life enjoying every moment with him than waiting for another law to be overturned.

“It’s more than that and you know it.” In a way, she understood Justin’s vehemence – his persistence for them to experience this. It would be his proof to his parents that he found the right girl from him, despite what the names on their bodies are saying. It would be the validation to himself, that this is it. That she’s the one. “It’s tax benefits and joint-related rights and some other things that make my mind all scrambled whenever I think about it because this bloody country still confuses me. It’s you and me forever, Syd.”

“You and me forever,” Sydney agreed. She reached out and caressed his cheek, raising her head a little to meet his lips with his. She gasped when he deepened the kiss, loving his weight on top of her. Even though she liked being on top most of the time, the feeling of him pressing her against the mattress made her feel grounded. She bit at his lower lip, coaxing him with her kiss to forget it all. To stay with her.

The door to their bedroom slammed open.

“Syd-- OH MY GOD!”

Justin startled, immediately moving off of her - fleeing if she was being quite honest - to look at the source of the disturbance. Sydney looked up at the ceiling -  already knowing who it was - counting to ten in her head. She prayed for patience and kindness because she was going to throttle her brother in 2.5 seconds.

Spencer was standing at the entrance of their room, eyes covered with one hand while the other held an envelope. She rolled her eyes and reached for her discarded shirt – Justin’s really – and slipped it on to allow herself the barest excuse for modesty.

“How did you even get in?” Justin asked, finishing up on the buttons of his shirt. The disturbance and humiliation of being discovered by his best friend quickly killed his libido.

“I have a key,” Spencer said with an obvious tone, wondering why Justin even had to ask. Justin spluttered – _when did he get a copy_? – before throwing his hands up in surrender. He didn’t know why he even tried.

“What do you want, Spence?” Sydney asked impatiently. When Spencer didn’t say a word, still stood there with his eyes covered, she picked up a pillow and threw it at him. Spencer squawked indignantly at her when it hit him square at the head. “There’s nothing to see, Spencer. You made sure of that when you barged in here, you lump!”

“I’m sorry. Forgive me for wanting to bleach my brain after what I just witnessed. I mean, you know, Justin I’m cool with you and Sydney dating and all…” Sydney scoffed disbelievingly at that. Spencer ignored her. “But as far as I’m concerned you’re a Ken doll down there because that’s what helps me sleep at night. Also that’s what prevents me from killing you in your sleep because dude, that’s my sister and I’m obligated to fight for her honor.”

“Spencer,” Sydney warned over the sound of Justin’s indignant spluttering. _Sydney Georgia Willis does not need for her honor to be defended because she can defend it for herself_ , he grumbled under his breath. She nudged his back with the tip of her foot to keep him quiet and traced her toe up in random patterns to let him know she appreciated his words. She gestured impatiently at Spencer he could get on with whatever he came here for.

“Right!” he said, snapping back to attention. He raised the envelope in his hand, grinning madly at his sister. “I finally got a response from my soulmate ad! My soulmate responded!”

 

* * *

 

_Dear Spencer,_

_Hi. Wow. I don’t quite know what to say but I suppose I should apologize to you first and foremost for not replying sooner. I’ve only just recently heard about this publication but please believe me when I say that I wrote this letter as immediately as I could. I hope this reaches you well._

_I can’t quite believe I’m talking to my soulmate. It’s quite unbelievable. Sometimes I still want to pinch myself, so if you think my handwriting looks messy...well, that’s because I can’t seem to stop myself from shaking._

_You fascinate me, Spencer Willis. I must admit that I spent countless of sleepless nights wondering how you were or what you looked like. I even wonder what your favorite color is or what your favorite food is. I can bake and cook, you know. I can cook for you if you want._

_Oh no, I’m assuming. I’m sorry._

_I know you must want us to meet soon (again, just an assumption, I’m sorry for always assuming things it’s a bad habit) but would it be selfish of me to want to wait? I must admit, the thought of a personal correspondence between us in a medium as antiquated as letter writing brings a certain unique romance to it all. Do you find that cheesy? Oh, I’m already weirding you out._

_I hope it’s not too late and I hope I hear from you soon. I eagerly await our correspondence._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Merril Portman_

 

* * *

 

Logan jolted awake in a cold sweat to the shrill sound of his phone ringing. He wiped the sweat away from his brow, trying to calm his racing heart. It was always the same dream. Red drops of blood on white rose petals. _Always the same dream_.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he reached for his phone. He didn’t even check the caller ID before answering the call so it was a pleasant surprise for him to hear Julian’s voice in the other line.

“I’m sorry for calling so late.” Julian sounded falsely cheery – as if he was trying to hide distress -  and Logan was immediately on edge. He never heard Julian sound like this before. Julian never really let him see or hear him like this before. “Did I wake you up?”

“No,” he lied. He cleared his throat in an effort to make his voice sound less raspy. Julian probably saw through his lie but chose to say nothing, instead getting right to the point.

“Nat - Nathan...that’s my co-star,” Julian babbled. Logan immediately became concerned over the hidden distress in his voice. “His soulmate - she. She came to this fan signing. She wasn’t even a big fan of the show - she saw _three_ episodes. She came because she found him and she just wanted to make sure. She figured it was the best way to actually find him. What a clever girl she was. And it makes sense you know? Low-key soulmate for low-key Nathan. Fate is a fucking genius – putting two and two together.”

“Why are you telling me this, Jules?” Frankly, he didn’t give a damn about Julian’s co-stars over at Hollywood. As far as he knew, they were just placeholders - people to keep Julian company while he was away from home.

“Nathan is one of the most sensible people I know but he’s just...dropping it all for this girl he just met. Because of course it was _him_. Of course it was _her_. When is it never? His management wants to put a lid on it all - make him more marketable, you see, the way every other celebrity does when they meet their soulmate - but he’s not having any of it. _Logan_.” The blond made a noise to indicate that he was still listening, though he wasn’t quite sure about the importance of this, of why Julian sounded so distraught. His heart fell. Did Julian have feelings for this Nathan guy? The thought immediately disappeared as soon as it appeared. Of course not. Julian was straight. He liked _girls._  “He is the most sensible person I know and he is being _stupid_.”

Logan pulled his phone away from his ear to look at it helplessly, as if staring at it enough would make him care a little more. He vaguely heard the words ‘ _this will ruin him_ ’ come from Julian’s end, which he supposed was a bit of an exaggeration. Many celebrities found their soulmates, married them whose careers survived. In fact, the fans ate the relationships up and most of them became more successful because of their soulmates. “I still don’t know what you want me to do here, Jules,” he answered when he finally got his bearings.

“My parents were soulmates,” Julian blurted out suddenly. His voice was shaking. _Shaken_. He was almost begging Logan to _understand_. “They were soulmates and they were Hollywood’s Golden Couple since Bran- _fucking_ -gelina. That was before the whole soulmates thing was a big thing in the States, you see. Nothing was quote unquote official back then. Everyone expected them to get married so they did. They were young and foolish and too caught up in the fact that they had each other’s names on their arms to even be rational and they got fucking married. Biggest wedding of the decade!” He paused, giving Logan some time to process his words. “Years passed and Jesus, they were fucking miserable together. They divorced when I was young and it was a complete nightmare. Between the divorce and the custody battles, it’s no wonder I’m so fucked up! My parents were fucking soulmates and they _divorced_.”

Startled at the sudden shift in the tone of their conversation, Logan softened his voice. He knew Julian still harbored some residual issues concerning what happened between his parents but Logan didn’t realize the seriousness of the situation. He didn’t know his parents were soulmates. “That doesn’t happen, Jules. Not anymore. There are laws protecting people against what happened between them now.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Logan, I’m saying that if the divorce laws were in effect when they were married, they would be stuck in a loveless marriage and one of them would probably be in jail now for the killing the other. The last years of their marriage, they always had to take jobs on opposite sides of the world just so they would be away from each other. It’s a far cry from what the soulmate ads are promoting, huh?” Logan’s mouth thinned into a line as he struggled to keep his temper. He knew Julian was just riled up and he needed to understand why he was saying these things. No use fighting with him in the state he was in. He just let Julian continue with his thoughts. “People are saying that it scientifically fucking proven that soulmates are basically the one for each other. They’re made to fit - made to _last_.” Julian’s voice grew and grew more desperate, bordering on hysteria now. Logan tried to ignore the ache in his chest at the facts that Julian was spewing out at him. Did he not deserve that? A person who was made for him? Why did he have to be the one to pay for his parents’ shortcomings? “But my parents, they didn’t last. So obviously they were not the ones made for each other! Do you see, Logan?”

Logan wracked his brain for something to say to stop the agitation in Julian’s voice. He would have said anything to calm the other boy down. Though some deep part of him was wondering why Julian was so distraught. His parents were soulmates which meant he didn’t have the incompatibility gene so what was he so worried about? “Look, Jules. Just tell me okay? Don’t run around in circles and just tell me what you’re getting at here because it’s three in the morning and my brain’s slow and you’d just get even more pissed off at my lack of comprehension so just spit it out.”

 “Science is wrong, Logan!” Julian exploded, causing Logan to inch his phone away from his ear at the intensity of his voice. “ _Science_ is fucking wrong because my parents had each other’s name on their fucking arms and they didn’t last. Because relationships take more work than a fucking name on your arm. Why don’t people get that? Why don’t they get that it takes more than an idea of a person to make a relationship work? You can’t just throw it all in the line for a name on your arm and shout hallelujah and expect it all to do the work for you. People are ignoring basic relationship skills in favor of, _hey this girl’s name is on my arm so I just won’t do any work and expect everything to go well because we’re soulmates_. Love is more than that! Not this manufactured, preconceived bullshit!”

“Julian, calm down.” Logan was growing increasingly concerned at the mounting hysteria in Julian’s voice. He didn’t know what to do and he hated feeling helpless when it came to Julian. He _hated_ it. “That’s not gonna happen to you, okay? Like you said, your parents are soulmates. Your genes are basically engineered for you to have a compatible soulmate.” He tried to keep the bitterness away from his voice and hoped he succeeded. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Logan, science is wrong,” Julian whispered softly but insistently and his tone made Logan felt that he was missing something very important here. He was about to ask him about it when Julian’s next words caused his words to work their way back up his throat. “I don’t believe in soulmates, Lo. And I hope my soulmate doesn’t too.”

 

* * *

 

_Dear Merril,_

_Hi, Merril. Oh wow, I can't believe this is finally happening. I've been waiting for the moment to be able to write to you for months. I totally understand why you weren't able to respond to my ad. Please don't worry about that._

_Your handwriting is beautiful. Mine just looks like I'm nervous all the time. Add the fact that I'm really excited to right to you, well, I hope that you can still understand my writing._

_I don't really have a favorite color? I'm an artist, you see, and I suppose that helps me appreciate all of the colors. You see, when they all come together in a painting, you tend to forget that they're all individual colors that exist outside of that collective group of brush strokes. I'm sorry, I got deep with you there for a moment. But yeah, I'm a painter! I could paint something for you, if you'd like._

_And as for favorite food - that's a difficult question to ask a growing boy but I suppose I'm going to answer strawberry shortcake anyways._

_No! No! I don't think it's cheesy at all! I mean, yeah, I was looking forward to meeting you face to face but I suppose this is a good way to know each other before we meet 'officially'. It could also, be like, a way to debunk my sister's views about soulmates. To show her that soulmates aren't just that whole love at first sight thing._

_I highly look forward to our correspondence as well._

_Truly yours,_

_Spencer_

 

* * *

 

Spencer looked around the block, still a little high from the fact that _his soulmate responded_. Sydney, despite her uncertainties about the soulmate law, seemed genuinely happy for him and he appreciated that. He knew that he wasn’t the easiest brother to have so he appreciated that Sydney still had his back.

 _Even if you don’t have hers_ , a traitorous voice in the back of his head whispered. Spencer set his jaw and straightened his posture. He was trying to see things Sydney’s way, he really was. He was getting better at it. He was going to be _better._

As he walked along the shopping block, a new shop caught his eye. _Serendipity Café_ , the name on the glass window said. He took a peek inside, eyes brightening at the sight of the pastries lined up inside the glass displays. He bounced excitedly, already making his way inside. A strawberry shortcake was just what he needed as a cherry on top of his amazing day.  

A bell jingled by the door signaling his arrival. The lady at the counter smiled and welcomed him. She let him look through the available desserts at the menu overhead before asking for his order. He excitedly ordered a whole strawberry shortcake because he was not holding back this time. She took his order and his payment before telling him the cake would be delivered to him shortly and would he please take a seat.

He thanked her before turning around to find a seat. The place was _packed_ , filled with couples and families. He was lucky enough to be able to find a seat in the midst of the crowd, set smack dab in the middle of the room. He sat down before patiently waiting for his order, reaching down to feel the letter in his pocket. He thought back to the letter he dropped in the mailbox a couple of blocks away, sighing at the thought of it traveling to his soulmate.

He couldn’t quite believe it was real.

“Hi! I’m sorry to bother you but I was wondering if I can sit here? Everywhere else is full.” Spencer looked up at the girl who spoke. She was smiling softly at him, dressed in a simple floral dress with a quite soft-looking cardigan over it. She was holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate of dessert in the other.

“Here’s your order - strawberry shortcake.” She set it down in front of him gently before taking the seat opposite him. He wondered why she had his order for a split second before his attention was captured by the beauty in front of him. Spencer’s mouth watered at the sight. It was larger than the other available cakes in the other shops. It looked perfect, with the juices of the strawberry sauce dripping along the sides in an almost artful fashion. The dollop of whipped cream looked generous and the slices of cake looked perfectly spongy and yellow. Spencer was a connoisseur of strawberry shortcakes and this one was perfect.

“Okay, truth be told, I’m not really a customer here. I work here, really, just for the summer. Please don’t think I’m creepy! It’s just I’m new here and I don’t really know anyone and this is the first day of the store being opened and you were the first person around my age…so…” She took a deep breath. Spencer saw the worry and the uncertainty in her face, as if she was almost expecting him to turn her away. To ease her worries, he took an initiative to gently touch her hand. He could see the shift in his demeanor, see her worries vanish. It strangely made him feel nice.

“You work here?” Spencer prompted in a hope to get their conversation on more steady waters.. She nodded a little, her free hand fiddling with the bracelet on her other arm – the one that covered her soulmate mark. Her hand was warm and soft under his. He fought the urge to rub his thumb against the back of her hand. That would have been too creepy. Feeling her gaze on him, he cleared his throat and lifted his hand off of hers. It felt strangely empty.

“My aunt and uncle are the owners,” she told him. As he looked at her, he saw the pride in her eyes. “This is the fruit of their two year labor. Second shop in three years.”

“Your aunt and uncle own this shop?” he asked, amazed, looking around at the shop. It was a lovely shop, and it had that homely and quaint quality around it. “It’s lovely."

“Thank you,” she said softly, smiling. “I helped decorate it. It’s their lifelong dream, you see, to start a patisserie and café.” Spencer smiled as he took another bite of the shortcake. He made an obscene sound at the taste. It was delicious – no scratch that, it was _heavenly_. It was perfectly decadent. “You like it? I’m glad it turned out okay. My baking skills are a little rusty.”

“You baked this?” Spencer asked, surprised.  She nodded shyly. “It’s amazing! I can see this becoming one of your bestsellers!” He paused to take another bite and another. He didn’t know he was so hungry. All the excitement must have covered it up.

“Where’d you guys find the idea for the name of the shop?” he asked. It was an interesting name for a café. It was a refreshing change from the last name method most of the shops along the block used. It was interesting enough to have drawn in as many people as they had.

“ _Fortunate happenstance_ ,” she said. “My aunt and uncle met in a café. They were right next in line to each other, and my aunt ordered the last strawberry shortcake in the shop. My uncle made a sad remark behind her, sad that the last shortcake was taken when my aunt offered to split it with him. They were soulmates.” She shrugged a little. “They hoped to build a shop that could be like that for others – a café that could bring soulmates together. Or anyone really.” She lowered her voice into a whisper. “There are copies of the Soulmate Inquirer available under the counter for anyone who asked. They’re great supporters of the Freethinkers.” She gazed at him, waiting for his reaction. Her gaze was resolute, almost daring him to say a bad thing about her aunt and uncle. Sometimes he forgot that not everyone went for the quiet disapproval route he usually went with when someone mentioned the Freethinkers. He forgot that support for a group like that got people in trouble.

“They’re believers for equal marriage rights, huh?” he asked carefully. She nodded firmly. “That’s…awesome.” He trailed off, not really knowing what else to say. With a pause, he realize he forgot a very important detail. “All this chatting and I never even got your name. I’m sorry, I swear I have better manners than this. I’m Spencer, by the way. Spencer Willis.” He heard her suck in a sharp breath, before her breathing stuttered for a bit. He was confused by her reaction. Did she recognize him? “How about you? What’s your name?”

He saw her falter for a little when she heard his name but the flash of uncertainty disappeared as soon as it appeared, making Spencer think he just imagined things. “I’m Merr—Merrin. Merrin Chapman.”

 


	4. The City-Wide Ban

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** None of the characters are mine. They all belong to the lovely CP Coulter for her fanfiction Dalton. Merely borrowing them for fun.
> 
> **A/N** : Many thanks to my lovely beta-bells mama cp who held my hand throughout this whole thing and to the people at plurk who never fail on cheering me on. Any and all residual mistakes are mine.
> 
> **Warnings for this chapter** : internalized transphobia, mentions of parental abuse.

Justin looked up from his spot when someone entered the apartment quietly but quickly, rushing over to the leader at the front and whispering at his ear urgently. His brows furrowed worriedly at the growing agitation on his face. His mouth thinned into a line as he nodded at the boy, facing the group in front of him.

“A group of Radicals were rallying last night,” he started. The group burst into worried murmurs. Plenty of the people in the room disapproved of the other group’s radical, for the lack of a better word, ways. He knew they thought that the Radicals gave the anti-soulmate movement the bad reputation that the media insists on using. “There were dozens arrested and a few injuries, with my brother being in the former group. Thankfully, depending on your view of things.”

Justin’s brows raised in wonder. It must be difficult, to have a brother who placed his life in such danger like that. Not to mention having a brother who shared different views than you. He knew the Radicals didn’t believe in the Freethinkers’ so called ‘peaceful’ way, believing that the only way the government would pay attention would be through brute force.

Justin smiled dimly. _Must be a thrill living in that household._

Their leader cleared his throat, clearly still a bit disconcerted with the news but was struggling to regain whatever composure he lost. He looked young – younger than him, even. It was surprising to have someone this young lead this group.

“I’m Riley, for those new here,” he started.  He didn’t even smile, but Justin strangely trusted him. He looked dependable – like he got his shit together, even at his age. With his sharp angles and serious mouth, he looked exactly like the charming Enjolras needed to lead this fight, cajoling and charming people to fight for his cause. “That’s Colby,” he nodded over to the boy who entered earlier. He raised a hand, smiled and waved at the group. “We’ve been tasked to handle the chapter in this neighborhood.”

“I know what you must be thinking,” he continued. Justin looked around the room and found that everyone was captivated by him. Men, women, young people…they were all listening to him. He was amazed at the boy’s ability to capture a whole room’s attention and keep it. It wasn’t an easy task. “That I look too young, that maybe I should be at school instead of here. But this cause holds my true passion. The fight for equal rights overcomes all other things because these are our rights that are being trampled on. Our constitution is based on the idea of equality and it should protect the rights of the people. How can we sit idly by and watch our rights be trampled over?”

“As you all know, there is a public protest at Zuccotti Park on Wednesday,” the other boy – Colby -  said, taking over. “We highly encourage you all to join. For those new and concerned about the police, don’t be. This is an incredibly legit and legal – or as legal as protests can get – protest. You shouldn’t fear the police when you’re with the Freethinkers. We are not the Radicals. We are a peaceful and intellectual group. One of our top priorities is to keep our people safe.”

“Sign up sheets for those who want to help out with the set-up are up front,” Riley said, tilting his head towards the desk set up. “If you want to donate, talk to our donations supervisor Isaac at the back. We are not forcing you to participate in this protest – there will be plenty more to come – but your presence would be of great help to making sure our voices will be heard. We’re not asking you to build a barricade. We just need you to show up.”

“For those who want to join,” Colby continued. “We would appreciate it if you can ask any friends or family to come along. The more people who appear the merrier. Also we anticipate the protest to go on for hours. So please, bring water and food. There will be available medics at the venue to ensure you all will be taken care of.”

Justin rubbed the back of his head, a little unsure. He wanted to help out, but helping out meant that he was joining the protest. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Sydney was going to kill him.

He stood up from his spot and made his way towards the front. He hesitated, the pen hovering over the sign up sheet, before he signed his name with a flourish.

He just signed his death sentence.

* * *

Merril traced the counter with a finger on her free hand, leaning against the palm of her hand. She followed the patterns she drew on the counter, sighing every once in a while. Spencer had left the shop a couple of minutes prior with the promise of coming back – _do you honestly think I wouldn’t come back after I tasted your heavenly strawberry shortcake_? - and Merril went back to her place behind the counter.

She was a little shaken by the encounter.

She didn’t expect to meet her soulmate in their shop within the first day of opening.

He was _beautiful_. She didn’t know what she expected really but she knew her dreams couldn’t possibly live up to the reality of him. He had such a soft, genuine and charming smile and his eyes. Dear god, his eyes. She couldn’t forget the way they looked. They were such kind and gentle eyes.

Not to mention how kind he was. He didn’t even seem spooked by the fact that she randomly appeared out of nowhere. He was open and friendly, keeping the conversation flowing even though he probably thought she was such a weird girl by lying.

Merril bit her lip. _Lying_. She lied to him. She lied to him about her name.

_Merrin Chapman_. She laughed bitterly in her mind. She was a terrible liar. That was a terrible name. Merrin. What kind of name was that? She was surprised Spencer didn’t see through the lie. He probably thought it was a ridiculous name too.

Merril groaned and let her head drop against the counter with a sound thud. She heard the quiet pitter patter of footsteps coming towards her but she chose to ignore it. She had to wallow for a couple of moments.

“Merril, honey?” the kind voice of her aunt murmured softly. She sounded worried. Merril tilted her head to the side to peer at the kind face of her aunt.

“I met him, Auntie,” Merril whispered brokenly. She dropped her hands to her lap, straightening her posture in her seat again. She fiddled with the frills of her dress – a nervous tic shining through. She felt the burn in her eyes and tightening of her throat. She will not cry. “I met Spencer.”

Her aunt gasped in wonder. She didn’t have to look at her to know that she was smiling. “That’s wonderful news, sweetheart!” Merril immediately shook her head at that. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t good news at all. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I lied to him,” Merril told her quietly. She clenched her tiny fists. “I told him my name was _Merrin._ One letter off but still not Merril. I don't even know what possessed me to do. God.”

She heard the sound of a stool being dragged towards her spot. She tried not to flinch when she felt her aunt taking her hand in hers, rubbing the back of her hand to unclench her fists. “Merril. What’s _wrong_?”

“What if I’m not right for him?” Merril asked, furiously. Furious at herself. Furious at everything. Furious at the entire world. She heard her aunt gasp but she barreled on. “My parents seem to think so. I see the way they look at me, like I’m an abomination. Like I’m not normal. Because you know they think that. They know I’m not normal for being what I am. What if my own soulmate can’t accept who I am? My parents couldn't and they're the ones who should love me despite everything! Auntie, I can never bear that. It will _destroy_ me.”

“Sweetheart, you are perfect,” her aunt told her fiercely. She shook her head. She wasn’t perfect. She was all wrong.  Her parents always said so. _You’re a boy_ , they told her furiously. They screamed it at her face, yanking at her arm and forcing her to face a mirror. She fought and she fought them when they brought in a pair of shears, protesting 'please god no please not my hair'. _You’re a boy._

She remembered staring at her reflection sometimes, even as she stayed with her aunt and uncle. She remembered staring at herself, at her long hair and feminine features that sometimes strayed to the androgynous side of things. She remembered caressing her cheek as tears poured down her cheeks, eyes defiant as she mouthed assurances to herself.

_You’re a girl._

_You’re beautiful._

_You will be the most beautiful girl in the world and your parents will regret saying those things. Because then they’d miss out on having a beautiful daughter._

_You are_ everything _._

She wished that they were enough.

But she can still feel the self-hatred that her parents’ emotional abuse – _no, it wasn’t abuse, they were only looking out for me stop that Merril stop it –_ instilled in her young mind. She can still feel that distant need to stop changing herself, that she was already who she was meant to be. But every time she considered stopping, it felt too much of a lie. That wasn’t who she was meant to be. This, right now, is who she was meant to me. She could feel it in her heart, in her soul.

Sometimes it can be too much though.

“I want to be good enough for him, auntie. I really, really do.” Merril straightened her posture, exhaling shakily. She will _not_ cry. She had cried too much over the things her parents said already. “I was just scared. I was scared that if I told him who I was, he’d be disappointed with what he saw. That he’d somehow know.”

“I wrote to him, when I found the Soulmate Ad.” She smiled wryly, staring at her aunt. “I asked him to wait for a little while to meet – to have the chance to get to know each other. I was hoping that if he knew who I was, _inside_ , that he wouldn’t care about what’s on the outside. I was hoping that if he loved what was inside, he wouldn’t care about anything else anymore. That I would be enough for him.”

“If he didn’t, he’s not worth it,” her aunt said fiercely, furiously. Anyone who couldn’t see the beauty and wonder that was her niece was not worth it. Soulmate or not, all Merril deserved was someone who could look past all of  the preconceptions they had in their head and just see her. Because she knew that it was impossible to not fall in love with her niece once they get to know her. Merril was _beautiful_ , and she would protect her from anyone who couldn’t see that.

Merril extracted her hand from her aunt’s and buried her face in her hands. Her aunt could hear her tears from where she was seated. Heart and soul aching, she reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “If my own soulmate can’t accept me, who would?”

“ _We do_. Someone else will, “ her aunt insisted. “You know as well as I do that some people find their soulmate in people that weren’t the names on their arms. Because in the end, Merril, it’s not about a name on your arm. It’s about someone who makes you feel safe and loved. Because that’s what soulmates are for. They’re there to make you feel loved. If the person who is written on your arm can’t give that to you, _move on_. Find the person who will.”

Merril struggled to control her tears and listen to her aunt. Because she was right. She deserved to be loved, didn’t she? Despite what her parents say, everyone deserves to be loved – even her.  (Especially her.) She deserved to be accepted.

“Sweet girl, you are everything,” Merril heard her aunt say. She laughed shakily and nodded. That was always what her aunt told her whenever she was feeling doubt and self-hatred. _You are everything_. “You deserve the world and more and most especially, you deserve the person who can give that to you. Now come on, I wanna hear it from you!”

Merril turned to look at her aunt, smiling shakily. “I am everything.”

“Yes you are, sweet girl,” her aunt said, staring at her bright and kind face. Merril was like the sun. Anyone who was able to look at that bright face and kind smile and not be amazed was an _idiot_. “You are everything.”

 

* * *

Reed shoved his hands in his coat’s pockets as he walked around the park. He knew he shouldn’t be walking around alone in such a crowded place but he just needed some time to breathe. His mother was on full “Mother mode”, fussing over him and making sure the leather cuff that covered his soulmate mark was perfect.

He was slowly coming to terms over the fact that his soulmate was a boy but he didn’t quite know what it meant for him. Was he gay? Bisexual? Was this Shane just a one-off thing? He wasn’t so sure about any of it, considering he didn’t think he was attracted to anyone – boy or girl – really before. Wasn’t that the basis of human sexuality? Being attracted to one person?

He knows that a vast majority of people mistakenly cultivate the thought that being straight was the default but Reed didn’t quite agree. He knew human sexuality was a complex thing. If it was as simple as that, he wouldn’t be so damn confused.

He continued to walk, looking around at the blooming trees around him. He flexed his hand inside his coat pocket, feeling the sudden want to paint something. He was stressed and he felt like if he stayed inside their apartment any longer he wouldn’t die from suffocation. Every time he looked at his aunt, he felt the disappointment in her eyes and Reed simply couldn’t handle that.

He tried his best. He knew he did. He always tried to make his mother proud of him. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if she was proud of _him_ or his achievements because all he wanted was for his mother to stare at him or his works and say ‘good job’. That was all he wanted.

He sighed and continued walking. It really didn’t do anything to be angry about something that he couldn’t change. He just had to suck it up and keep on walking, keep on trying. This just meant that he had to put extra effort to making his mother proud. He can handle it.

He paused for a moment when he saw a crowd gathering around… _something_. He could’ve just continued on walking - his mother probably already noticed he was missing - but something pulled him towards the crowd. He didn’t know what but there was something. Curious, he slipped in the crowd, trying to find what they were gathering around for. He gasped when he finally saw what was happening.

What he saw was a slender boy making art. With movement.

He was _dancing_.

His steps were so fluid that Reed couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He wasn’t an expert on dancing but he knew this pure art in motion. He looked like a sculpture, come to life. The boy followed the beats of the song so effortlessly, Reed almost looked for an invisible string that tied him to the small boombox.

He quietly watched him, eyes following every fluid motion. His eyes followed the way his limbs extended to their fullest potential, the way his movements almost seemed to be telling a story. He couldn’t quite explain the feeling he felt when the boy kept on moving (it felt almost like peace and happiness but not quite). It was like the way he felt when he saw a particularly exquisite painting.  He followed the way the boy’s face looked so peaceful as he danced, like he was lost in a different world.   

He felt his chest tightening. He wanted to feel whatever this dancer was feeling.

When the song ended, he almost felt disappointed. It was almost like a veil in front of his eye vanished and he was back to reality. It was too soon for it to end like that. The dancer’s eyes opened and he seemed to come back from whatever world he disappeared to when he danced. His chest heaved with every breath he took, clearly winded. He bowed at the crowd as they all clapped and dropped money into the hat placed in front of him.

Reed took out some money from his wallet and dropped a hundred dollar bill into the hat. He missed the look of pure joy that crossed the dancer’s face. “Oh man, thank you so much!” he heard him say. He saw the dancer’s arm shoot down to get the hat and Reed gasped at his uncovered arm.

_Reed Van Kamp_.

His eyes shot up and met his eyes. His warm, kind, beautiful  eyes.

The eyes of his soulmate.

“Hi,” Reed exhaled. Confused, the boy – _Shane, it was Shane he was Shane Anderson he was the name on his arm what how do you even breathe after something like this_  – quirked an eyebrow before smiling and saying hi back. Reed scrambled to take his cuff off, pulling at the strings.

“Oh hey, let me.” He watched as Shane stuffed the bills into his pocket and placed the hat atop his curly hair, hiding them from view. Reed missed them immediately. They gave him character. He was so focused on thinking about the other boy’s hair that he startled a little when he felt other hands on his wrist, helping him untie the strings that kept his cuff in place.

He waited.

Shane gasped.

“Oh. _Oh_.” Reed couldn’t bear to raise his eyes to look at Shane’s facial expression. He held his breath as he stubbornly looked at his own soulmate mark. What were the chances really? He had his soulmate mark less than a week, barely had time to process that his soulmate was a boy, before fate thrust him right in front of him. Was this really his life right now? He tried not to flinch when his soulmate’s finger found its way under his chin, tilting his gaze up. He was enchanted by his soft brown eyes and his beautiful smile. “Hello, Reed Van Kamp. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

* * *

 

_“I think that the cause, the fight for equal marriage rights, is a good cause,” Julian said, smiling. He continued to speak, even over the loud murmurings of the crowd. “This has already been a cause fought and won years ago. Anyone who could remember the fight for gay marriage rights can probably see the same struggle in this day and age and they are probably tired of seeing humanity face the same issues over and over again. It’s time to end this and give the equality that everyone deserves.”_

_“There is a public Freethinkers rally on Wednesday in New York’s Zuccotti Park for those who live in New York. I highly encourage everyone to go there, especially if you know nothing about the cause. The Freethinkers are an intellectual group and I’m sure they would love to educate you on the topic. If you don’t live in New York, I encourage you all to contact and coordinate with the local chapter of the Freethinkers in your city. They will welcome you with open arms.”_

_“This is a cause near and dear to my heart, something I’ve been quietly supporting. I figure now is the time to stop being silent – and to finally speak up. Because this is a cause that affects all of us, whether you like it or not. These are people’s rights. We can’t just always turn a blind eye to things that don’t affect us because humanity is not selfish. I know it.”_

_“I hope you can help me support this cause.”_

Logan exhaled as he watched Julian’s – well, the Something Damaged cast’s, really – televised press conference. _Well, I’ll be damned_. He couldn’t believe he actually did it. He stared at Julian’s smiling face and felt unending gratitude towards him.

He watched as the moderator tried to keep things back on track, clearly surprised by Julian’s words. It was clear that this wasn't the route she wanted this press conference to tale. It was difficult though, especially when Julian’s castmates chimed in along with their thoughts on the issue. All of them seem to agree – even the one that looked like the Ice Queen personified – and promised their support to the cause.

Logan exhaled shakily, looking down and smiling. Having big names like them supporting the cause, Logan knew it would be a big deal. He knew this was a game-changer. As he stared at Julian’s pleased face as he listened to the thoughts of his castmates, Logan felt affection for him that he never felt before. It was a quiet sort of affection, the kind of thing you felt when someone surprised you in a good way.

Julian always seemed to surprise him.

He jumped when he heard his phone beep, signaling a new message.

_Are you watching?_

Logan’s mouth curled into a helpless smile as he raised his eyes to stare at Julian. He was fiddling with his phone, clearly waiting for a response.

_I’m proud of you_ , Logan texted back. _Thank you._

He stared as Julian checked his phone, eyes widening a little in surprise before a soft and gentle smile crossed over his face. He tapped his phone against his lips before turning his attention back to his co-stars.

The smile never left his face.

Logan startled when he heard the sound of his father’s study’s door slamming shut He didn’t know whether to be shocked or be amused when he heard his father shouting at the top of his lungs through the thick oak doors of his study.

He settled for laughing as he turned up the volume of Julian’s press conference.

“ _You were supposed to keep a handle on this_!” he heard his father shout, before significantly softening. Logan couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face. It was good to know that Julian’s words seem to place even more fuel to the fire. Julian seemed to have hit two birds with one stone.  At least he knew that his father was rattled. “ _That boy is making things worse_!”

_Father is furious_ , by the way, Logan couldn’t help but text. He watched as Julian read the text  and saw his brows raise in wonder.

_Good. It means what I said actually had an impact,_ he replied. Sometimes he was surprised how much Julian underestimated the power of his fame. He had millions of followers on several social media platform and yet, he knew he was still surprised that people actually listened to what he had to say about the hard-hitting stuff.

Logan smiled softly, feeling his affection grow for the other boy. He leaned back against the sofa as he watched Julian answer more questions from the press. He watched him eloquently answer all of their questions, not hesitating on the controversial questions and insisting that he was all up for marriage equality. He declined answered if he had any personal connections to the cause and insisted that whether or not he did held no bearing on the fact that he will continue to support the cause because that shouldn’t be the basis of anyone for supporting it.

He watched as the moderator continued to struggle to steer the questions back to safer ones but Julian was not having any of it. He welcomed all of their questions with open arms, raising more awareness on the cause and the Freethinkers. When it seemed like the moderator didn’t know what else to do, she finally thanked the cast for participating in the panel and ending the press conference early.

When the cast finally exited the stage, his phone immediately rang. Logan didn’t even need to look at the caller ID to know that it was Julian.

“Hey,” he answered, not bothering to hide the smile in his voice. He was ridiculously proud of Julian. He will not make an effort to hide how proud he was.

“How’d I do?” Julian asked, breathless.

“You did good, Jules,” Logan told him, still smiling. He could still hear his father in his study, struggling to fix the frenzy that Julian started with his words. “It seemed to really shake Father so it means that what you said really had an impact. I’m sure the Freethinkers’ phones are ringing off the hook.”

“I really hope I made a difference,” Julian admitted quietly. “Oh crap. Carmen’s giving me the evil eye now. I fucked up all their plans, didn’t I?” Logan listened as the other boy chuckled. “Eh, whatever. They deserve it. I gotta go now though. I just called to check up on you. I can hear your father shouting the background.”

Logan laughed. He couldn’t help it. Any opportunity to make his father’s life a living hell was golden for him. “Jules?”

“Yeah, Lo?”

“Give ‘em hell.”

Julian laughed. It was a beautiful sound. “Sure thing, Lo.”

 

* * *

“Breakfast is served, milady,” Derek announced as he plopped the tray on Casey’s bed. He reveled in her surprised gasp, probably not expecting this kind of treatment from him. Well, they had quite a workout the night before so they both deserved a bit of refreshment. 

“You prepared this?” Casey asked unbelievingly, raising an eyebrow at him as she took a chocolate covered strawberry, biting into it and making sure no drops of juice landed on her bed. Oh man, she loved strawberries. They are the food of the gods.

“Of course!” Derek insisted. Casey merely smiled as she took a piece of French toast from the selection. Derek himself chose the cup of coffee, blowing over the hot liquid before taking a sip. “Okay, one of your chefs maybe helped, like a teensy bit.” He paused. Casey merely kept smiling, with the slight quirk of brows being the only indication that she did not believe him whatsoever. “Okay, he prepared it all.”

Casey swallowed her bite before speaking. She reached out with her free hand and patted his cheek – too gently to be genuinely condescending. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“Damn right,” he said proudly as he took another sip from his coffee. Ah the coffee in Casey’s house was always the best. Ever since one of the Lamberts’ help offered to make the household’s special brew of coffee for him, he never looked back. There were days when he seriously contemplated recruiting the maid to their own house.

They both ate and drank in silence, with Derek occasionally reaching over and feeding Casey a piece of strawberry, kissing away the juices that managed to escape. They were lazy kisses with no intent to go further. No matter how amazing his recovery time was, he was pretty sure his sex energy still needed to be recharge after the night they had. And besides, it was nice to simple be with Casey. A distant part of his brain was slightly unsettled at how increasingly comfortable he was with her but he chose to ignore it. He enjoyed Casey’s company more than he enjoyed the company of the other girls he previously slept with. There was nothing bad about that.

He startled a bit when Casey spoke – too content with the silence and comfort of her company to even notice that she was done eating. Derek tried not to think of how strangely domestic it felt. “Do you ever wonder, Der, what would happen if one of us got our soulmate marks?”

Derek stared at her, wondering where this was coming from. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to have a soulmate mark. He wondered if people like him, people with his kind of lifestyle, even had soulmates. Can fate find a soulmate for someone who refuses to settle down?

“Honestly, I don’t,” he settled on saying, tracing the rim of his coffee cup. Casey hummed and leaned back against the headboard. “I don’t like thinking about the future, really. I’d rather focus on the now and right now, I’m with you. I suppose I’ll have to deal with things as they come along.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Casey said softly, staring up at the ceiling. Derek placed his cup on the tray and settled it aside, so as to not make a mess. He’ll just have one of the staff collect it later. He turned to look, noting her wry smile. Probably feeling his gaze on her, Casey peeked at him, giving him a more genuine smile. “Don’t mind me. I just tend to overthink things. I just wonder sometimes. We don’t really talk about the deep things.”

“The deep things?” Derek asked, smirking and raise an eyebrow. She rolled his eyes, but he could see that she regretting making the slip. “What’s next? We talk about our mommy and daddy issues?”

Casey’s face reddened. “Forget it,” she snapped, clearly miffed. Derek bit his tongue, knowing he can be such an ass sometimes. He just didn’t deal with feelings and emotions and well, the deep stuff. He never really had a reason to discuss those kinds of things with his previous flings. He knew that Casey was different but, well, habits do die hard.

Derek said nothing, moving until he was over her. He stayed silent, choosing to lean down and kiss her deeply instead. He could taste the strawberry and chocolate on her lips. He could feel resistance coming from her and he sighed, dropping his head. “I’m with you right now, right this moment, Case. I’m pretty sure that’s all that should matter. It the time ever comes that one of us does get their soulmate mark, well, we’ll deal with that. But right now, I just want to focus on being with you.”

“Oh Derek Seigerson, you sure know how to make a girl swoon.” He chuckled at her dry tone. She truly was a wonder to behold. Sometimes Derek felt unending gratitude at being the boy she shared herself with. She was the first girl to really match him, in wit and in bed. He was still surprised at the amount of times she managed to capture him tongue-tied and empty handed. It was _wonderful._

He maneuvered himself until he was under the sheets with her, pulling the sheets over their heads. He hovered over her, grinning as she covered her face and laughed. He pulled at her hands, wanting to see the smile on her face and kept pulling until she gave in. Her eyes were scrunched up in laughter with a smile wide and pure. Her hair was a complete mess and she still had some residual chocolate at the corner of her mouth from the strawberries but she looked _perfect_.

He rubbed the chocolate from her mouth and swooped down to kiss her deeply again. Casey let out a slow breath, kissing back just as fiercely. Her hands found themselves in his hair, pulling him closer – always closer. She was an amazing kisser, knowing just when to bite at his lower lip and when to soothe the pain with a soft nibble. She matched him, push by push and pull by pull. It was always a wonder kissing her because she was never predictable but at the same time, it perfectly matched the way he kissed her so there were no nose bumps or awkwardness.

When she broke away to take a breath, he almost whimpered. Why did they even need air? Why couldn’t they just keep on kissing until the ends of their days? That didn’t seem like such a bad way to die. He peppered kisses all over her face, his hands wandering all over her body; it seemed like he couldn’t quite keep his mouth and his hands off of her. She laughed and sighed at the all the right places, closing her eyes and reveling in Derek’s worship of her body. She gripped Derek’s arms in anticipation when she felt him grip her waist and didn’t even let out a breath of surprise when Derek flipped their positions effortlessly.

His smile said it all.

He knew she always liked it when she was on top.

She smiled wickedly down at him.

And she was going to show him exactly why.

 

* * *

****  
“There was a Radicals rally last night,” Olivia Bennett, Senator Wright’s press relations manager, informed him. “Dozens were arrested and a few were injured. Our team is struggling to keep a lid on things so don’t worry about that.” **  
**

Senator Wright nodded severely, clearing his throat. He shouldn’t have had lost his temper but the pressure of the protests and pressure from his colleagues seem to all come at a head. Especially with that disaster of a press conference. His attempt at putting a lid on things backfired – horribly.

She paused, selecting her words very carefully, in fear of setting the senator off on a tangent again. “But Julian Larson’s words are surely helping in swaying the public’s opinion in favor of the other group. The Freethinkers. I heard news that they already raised a few thousand dollars within the few minutes he started speaking up about the issue.”

“They forced our hand,” Senator Wright murmured softly from his spot behind his desk. He was furious and calm at the same time. All of his attempts at putting a lid on things…all destroyed by words from a spoiled and naive actor. He was sure the boy didn’t even know the full gist of things, only saying those words to boost his insignificant career. John had to do something. His career was on the line.

“What do you want us to do?” Liv asked. She was relieved the senator finally calmed down enough to talk options with them. No amount of screaming could change what has already happened and it did nothing to lose their tempers.

“Call the major news stations. Coordinate with them in trying to find a way to turn all of that positivity into negativity. Find anyone who could have possibly filmed that Radicals’ rally last night. Show them how much of a danger all of these protests pose. Turn the public against them.” Senator Wright was on full fixer mode. He was going to fix this, no matter what it took.

“Call the mayor’s office,” John started. His mouth thinned into a severe line. He hated resorting to desperate measures but this has gone on long enough. “Inform him about how much of a menace these two groups have been for the public and if he has any care at all for the members of community, he will stop this madness.”

“What do you mean, Senator?” Liv asked unsurely.

John raised his eyes to look at Liv. His eyes were cold, emotionless. “Ask him to put a ban on all public protests – starting with that ridiculous Freethinkers protest this Wednesday.”

* * *

“ _Breaking news. New York City Mayor Gregory Pope has just announced a city wide ban for any and all anti-Soulmate protests, starting with the upcoming high profile Freethinkers protest. This is due to the increasing worry of it being a danger for citizens and protestors alike._

_As previously reported, there had been a Radicals protests the day before leading to multiple injuries and arrests. The mayor wishes to prevent any more injuries and arrests by banning protests until further notice._

_In a press release from the mayor himself, he wishes for understanding and patience from the two groups but he insists that public safety is his first priority. He insists that several citizens had issued complaints about the protests and that some feared for their safety._

_There were plenty of indications on several videos sent, he said. That these protests are indeed a menace to our community. In order to prevent any more danger to come to our peaceful community , I must regretfully place this band upon any and all protests until further notice._

_I wish for full cooperation between the two camps or I will be forced to take drastic measures to protect this city._

_As seen in several footages of the event, it is clear that the anarchist group Radicals had grown more forceful in their protests the night before. They had ignored the clear warnings of the police and so they had been forced to take drastic measures. It can also be seen that the protesters became increasingly aggressive, pushing through the line of police forces. Some who ran away vandalized walls along the way, screaming and shouting along the way. It is suspected some of these protesters were on illegal substances when the protest took place._

_A couple of the random passersby had been pulled into the fray, and it is reported that more than half of the injured are not protesters but rather just random citizens who just happened across the foray._

_No news yet on whether they will press charges._

_The cause had received major attention when actor Julian Larson and the other cast members of the Something Damaged cast expressed their support for the cause._

_There are no news from the Freethinkers camp yet how this ban affects them and their upcoming protests.”_

__


End file.
